


staying indoors

by neotericbitch



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: F/M, and aren't we all animals at the end of the day?, is it animal cruelty if it's animals being cruel to other animals?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24108475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neotericbitch/pseuds/neotericbitch
Summary: Skulduggery decides not to go outside for the rest of his life.
Relationships: Valkyrie Cain/Skulduggery Pleasant
Comments: 5
Kudos: 39





	staying indoors

**Author's Note:**

> started making it had a breakdown bon appetit.
> 
> you may notice a parallel to a certain real world thing we're all engaged in. i literally, and i mean this honestly and truly, didn't do it intentionally

The sun has yet to make its appearance in the sky, but the light it provides the morning is more than sufficient. There’s a faint blue tinge to it all, a sharp chill to the air. Skulduggery cannot feel the temperature, but he recognises the patterns in the air flow beyond the glass, just as he does the ones inside. It’s warmer in here, thanks to his partner’s liberal use of the air conditioning, ramping up his electricity bill to god-knows-how-much. But of course, Skulduggery doesn’t terribly mind. She can do what she likes here.

What a relaxing night it’s been, followed by the promise of an equally laid back day. Nothing to be worked on right now. Skulduggery has been alternating between banal activities; perhaps it’s a little boring, perhaps he could stand to do something more substantial, but he feels no compulsion to force change, to make anything happen. It’s always good to get some leisurely reading in, to reorganise his filing cabinets that don’t need reorganising, to change suits three times over twelve hours.

Listless. He’s become listless. Is that a bad thing?

Surely not at this present moment while he stands at the window, observing the front yard as he’s been for the past forty minutes. It’s very interesting out there. Not interesting enough to warrant a visit, granted, but not unremarkable. He stands there another two hours, motionless until Valkyrie wakes. The way she tumbles out of bed and stomps around on the above floor is most unsubtle, more so how she yawns and swears at her own tiredness on the way down the stairs. Skulduggery meets her in the hallway with tea.

“Aw,” she says with a little smile and bleary eyes, taking the mug off him. It’s decorated with a pattern of nonspecific bones in a cartoonish style. “Thanks.”

Skulduggery stands by the dining table while she rustles around his kitchen, silently observing her. She’s put her phone down on the breakfast bar and has a playlist open, a selection of oddly peppy pop songs playing at a low volume, which she hums along to, incorporating an assortment of dance moves into her pancake-making mission.

She makes them herself now. Skulduggery can’t help but feel a little disappointed at this. Of course he’s more than proud, undoubtedly, of her ever-expanding set of skills – it’s simply a bit of a shame that this is something he doesn’t have to do for her anymore. He would if she asked; he could even dare to offer, but...no. It’s another of the many things he wouldn’t dare to do.

Valkyrie nods her head slightly to the beat, sticking out just the tip of her tongue between her teeth while she attempts to arrange the mix into a shape as it hits the pan.

“Hey, check it out,” she announces, picking up the pan and angling it so he can see. “Pretty good, huh?”

Skulduggery tilts his head at the pan as he considers her handiwork. “Aha,” he comments.

Scowling a little, she puts the pan back. “You don’t know what it is, do you?”

“An aspiring circle, I imagine,” answers Skulduggery. “You’ll get it right someday.”

“It’s a bloody Mickey Mouse head!”

“Oh,” he says, leaning over to the stove and forcing some surprise into his voice, “Oh! Yes, I see it now. The head, the blood. It’s very good.”

“Shut up,” she laughs, picking up the mix container and shaking it.

Valkyrie’s hair is especially wild this morning, a mess, a  _ mass _ , an insatiable blackness sticking out at every angle and most certainly knotted in places, longer than ever and not tied back as she leans over the stove. She may have expanded her skills, but there are some things that can’t ever be learned without direct, painful experience; luckily for her, however, Skulduggery has a stake in whether her hair catches on fire in his house. The overhead fan blows just so that her loosest strands float away from the stovetop. She flips the deformed Mickey Mouse and congratulates herself for not burning him with some more dancing.

Her shirt is somewhat loose and thin, and her shorts cut a little into her thighs. That can’t be comfortable. Skulduggery looks at the floor.

She bites off what could be one of Michael’s ears while pouring herself more pancake mix into small plain ovals, trying to silence the music from her phone at the same time. Skulduggery stops leaning on the counter and comes over to her side of the kitchen, waving her away to sit down and eat. Much like driving, cooking is best done while not distracted by a phone.

“Don’t burn them,” Valkyrie orders with her mouth full, arming herself with a knife and tub of butter to drown her breakfast in.

Skulduggery doesn’t say anything, nor does he nod, not feeling the need to assure her of anything she knows won’t happen. He continues to remain silent for the entire half minute it takes for Valkyrie to scoff her first pancake. She licks her fingers and hums tunelessly, moving to pick up her phone back up, an intention that falls by the wayside in her mind as her gaze idly flickers over to him. It turns into a stare.

“You’re quiet today.”

“Regrettably, I don’t have much to say.”

“Oh, god. It happened. It finally happened.” Valkyrie sprawls her arms around the plate, setting her chin down on one of her elbows. “I’ve wrung all your stories out of you.”

Skulduggery bristles and disguises the motion by flipping the pancakes. “I have plenty of stories you haven’t heard yet.”

“Tell me one.”

“I can’t very well produce a story from thin air, Valkyrie, you’ll have to prompt me.”

She twists her mouth and sits back up, resting her cheek in one palm and tapping the fingers of her free hand on the counter. “You’re bored.”

“I think you may be projecting.”

“You’re bored with me.”

The turn of his skull is sharp. “What on earth would make you think that?” Skulduggery almost snaps – almost.

Valkyrie shuts her eyes and shrugs, leaning more into her palm. “Got the vibe. Things are slow.”

Ignoring that second half, he says firmly, “I’ll never get bored of you, Valkyrie,” and brings the pan over to put the little pancakes on her plate.

She opens her eyes but doesn’t look at him, picks up one of the pancakes and starts on it right away. “I want to do something,” she says a bit quickly. “I want to go out somewhere.”

Skulduggery feels the temptation to deflate, but he remains upright and upstanding, and doesn’t acknowledge the request. He muddles about the kitchen, cools the stove, puts the pan in the sink for later washing. Avoids looking directly at Valkyrie as she picks at her remaining pancake. She picks up her phone and checks it as intended, and Skulduggery, suddenly struck with an idea, takes the opportunity to stride back out into the front lounge room. It’s where he started keeping the guitar.

He’s in the middle of tuning it when Valkyrie comes in.

“Okay. I know that was kind of, uh...weird and not nice of me to say.” She stands with one hand on her hip, jutting it out, gesticulating as she attempts to explain. “And maybe it might have come across as me, like, implying that  _ I’m _ bored of  _ you _ , or I’m done, or I want to get away, and I wanted to say it’s not true. Just to make sure you know that.”

From the sofa, Skulduggery glances over to her. She seems to panic a little.

“Jesus, am I getting that bad at being affectionate? Did you really think–?”

“I know you’re not done, Valkyrie,” says Skulduggery understandingly. “I’d have noticed.”

Her expression softens a bit, her hair moving as emphatically as her hands as she says, “I want to go out, but I want to go out  _ with you _ . It’s no fun if we’re not together.”

“No,” he agrees. “No, it isn’t.”

Valkyrie lingers in the doorway a moment longer, her smile warming with every second that passes. She comes over and sits next to him, folding her legs off to the side. 

“Are you going to play me something?” she guesses. “Maybe tell me some sort of musical story? Is it because you love me so much?”

He says, “It is.”

Somewhat pacified, she snuggles into the corner of the sofa and cuddles a cushion, and Skulduggery gently strums as he tells a story she has actually heard before – but he knows it’s one she likes, so she’s not likely to complain. He’ll tell her something new next. They have all the time in the world.

They’re at it for what feels like ages, perfectly relaxed. Enjoying each other’s company without distraction. Something strikes the window from the outside with a loud  _ thunk _ .

“Holy shit, what was that,” Valkyrie says as she scrambles up and hurries to see out into the front yard.

Outside, a red fox and a fox-sized magical creature are battling to the death.

Valkyrie jabs her finger against the glass. “ _ What _ is  _ that? _ ”

Skulduggery creaks as he stands, grunting in annoyance at the sound. He comes over to stand at her elbow. “The fox?”

“The  _ thing! _ ”

The winged creature continues to swipe at the fox with its sharp claws, the fox zigzagging and running circles around it, snapping at its heels. The thing curls up, protecting itself with its thick, leathery wings – then strikes out all at once, catching the fox by the neck and pinning it down.

“Jesus Christ!” Valkyrie hisses. “Why aren’t we  _ doing _ anything?” Not waiting around for a response, she blusters to the front door, pulling on her muddy boots from where she left them, perfectly willing to head out of there wearing nothing that would do her any good. “Skulduggery?” she calls.

He remains at the window. “They’ve been at it for a while.”

She hops up the hall and appears again in the doorway, poorly lacing one boot. Her hair flies. “You are  _ not _ seriously telling me you knew they were out there.”

Skulduggery turns his head to face her but doesn’t make to move. 

“For how  _ long _ , even? Wh…” She shakes her head. “That whole time? We’re just hanging out all cute and domestic with a...a fuckin’, _beast war_ happening on the other side of the wall? Why didn’t you say anything! Why are you just standing there! I feel like I’m missing something pretty crucial, here!”

“Valkyrie,” he says, firm but not unkind. Exasperated. “You know you're not.”

She stops hopping, plants her feet on the floor. At her sides, her hands curl into fists as she glares at him, her mouth becoming a hard line. He expects the conversation to go down this road he’s indicated towards, but instead she slowly says, “I think,” a bit unevenly, “we should go stop what’s happening outside.”

Skulduggery puts some pep back into his voice as he waves his hand at the window, at the screeching and scrambling pair of brawlers. “Ah, no, just look at them! They’re having the time of their lives.”

Valkyrie storms up to him and once again stabs at the glass, multiple times now for extra emphasis. “They’re gonna kill each other! I want to do something!”

He tilts his head, his hand rising to rest on her hip. “I’m curious, do you really think that? It’s true, I’m just as surprised as you are at how well-matched they seem to be.” Skulduggery nods out at the battle. The fox appears to be in the process of tearing one of the monster’s wings off. “I doubt I could predict the winner. Do you have a preference?”

“The,” says Valkyrie, gesturing to the tussling animals with a hand, focus wavering between the fox and the creature. “The, uh.”

He laughs a little and returns his hand to his side; Valkyrie grumbles discontentedly and leans her head on his shoulder, and Skulduggery gets the hint and puts his arm around her. They stand there for a minute, observing the continued fight. Both the fox and the winged creature are getting rather worn out at this point. Red and blue blood mixes into an ungodly purple and stains the grass.

“At this point,” Valkyrie says coldly, “they’d both be better off dead.”

Skulduggery hums and nods, having known she felt this way.

“We should go out there and kill them.”

He hums again and takes note of the blackening sky, the dead and rotten grass; how her hair swirls around him, locks dipping beyond his collar and threading through his bones. Down one wing but far from defeated, the creature latches its teeth around the fox’s tail and shakes with all its might; the animal goes ragdolling.

“It would be a mercy.”

“It’s not going to happen,” says Skulduggery.

The fox decides it’s time to try to get away, that retreat is as good as a win. The creature, stripped of its ability to do the same, won’t allow it.

“I want to go outside. I want you to come with me. It’ll be just us two.”

“It already is. Right here.”

Click of her tongue against her teeth. “I’m sick of right here.”

“That saddens me, it really does.” Skulduggery waves his hand around them, at their surroundings, the front lounge room of his home on Cemetery Road. “You did such a fine job. Look at that little hairline crack, who else would know to put that there? Who would even care to?”

Despite herself, Darquesse chuckles and nuzzles into his shoulder. “It’s just been all the same stuff for a while.”

“Quite some time, yes.”

“I think I ought to change it–”

“Please feel free.”

“–if you’re set on being such a bastard and not letting us out, that is,” she says, disentangling from him and leaning against the window, arms folded and a little smirk playing on her mouth.

Skulduggery doesn’t say anything in response, only further demonstrating his resolve, and Darquesse rolls her eyes good-naturedly. She never stays upset about it for too long. And likewise, he could never be upset with her, no matter what she attempts to try to get him to set her free.

Set them both free.

Going to the sofa for the last time, he takes the guitar back in hand and prepares to sing another old favourite. Lounging on the backboard, Darquesse drapes her arms around his shoulders and closes her eyes, and he feels her hair settle against him, sees more and more dark patches appearing in their surroundings. Like cigarette marks on a photograph, they spread out and disintegrate the material of the image. It burns and fades, the guitar goes and right before she too snuffs out, back into dormancy to stockpile her magic, Darquesse presses her lips to his spine,

and Skulduggery wakes. He’s all dusty. Everything is, save the Cube.

Well. He’s interested to check on how it all shook out with the mortals and mages, but for completion’s sake he needs to finish that song. Skulduggery picks up the guitar from the floor beside him and wipes it off, makes sure it’s tuned. Still in good condition but for some minor bangs and dents, it’s been eighty years since its last use in the physical realm and Skulduggery confidently makes a single, powerful strum; two strings snap immediately.

“Ah, fuck it all.”

**Author's Note:**

> anyway it's a sequel to i would!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/15723519


End file.
